The boy who failed to die.

Year 1 chapter 11

I run my hand from her head to her jaw, her neck, her shoulder, her arm, crack. The brutal snap of a bone cracking out of place is heard from within the room and her sweet delicate screams of pain and desperate pleas lighten my day and I give her a sweet pleased smile. I cup her face and tug her hair back to look up at my face.

"You understand now? Yes? Good girls don't talk, and bad girls need to be punished so they can learn their place," I softly say though it cuts through the room she nods her head fat tears still pouting down her face. I squeeze her arm one last time causing her to yelp before I let her leave.

"Rule number three dear Angelina, accept any punishment issued for your crimes. Anything you do is a crime, you shouldn't be here, you don't belong here but by mercy we have tolerated your existence and tolerated you being here tainting our world with yours. But never forget your place again,"

"Not a word, remember. There had better not be a next time. If there is it will be much much worse than a simple broken arm, I assure you that if you go against me again not even Madam Pompfrey can help you, understood?" She nods and I give the all clear to let her through.

Her arm will be healed in a few days with the help of potions but the internal wounds should suffice.

I laugh to myself and signal for the guys to follow me and follow me they do.

"Welcome ladies and gents, witches and wizards to what we've all been waiting for, the first game of the year, Slytherin vs Gryffindor, or as we know it Potter vs Potter, who will win well that too be determined."

(I couldn't be bothered to re-write the quidditch scene so I just copied the book with the obvious changes)

After a lively pep talk from flint we finally head to the entrance to the pitch and I take a deep breathe knowing the stakes are high.

Everyone is here and I mean everyone, they're all excited to see the famous Charlie potter play for the first time.

Gosh I feel like throwing up when I think of how sickly their affection for the over-spoiled boy is.

"Mount your brooms, please." Madam hooch shouts to the two opposing teams and we do as instructed.

I elegantly sit on my  Nimbus Two Thousand perfectly matching with Charlie no doubt one of his many fan gifts.

Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle. Fifteen brooms rose up, high, high into the air.

And then we start.

"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor – what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too"

"JORDAN!" God what a wet wipe.

"Sorry, Professor."

The Weasley twins' friend, Lee Jordan, was doing the commentary for the match, closely watched by Professor McGonagall.

"And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve – back to Johnson and – no, Slytherin have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes, Flint flying like an eagle up there, he's going to sc- no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and Gryffindor take the Quaffle, that's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and, OUCH, that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger.